


Team Paladin

by WolffyLuna



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M, OC Focused, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 06:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12150432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolffyLuna/pseuds/WolffyLuna
Summary: A set of mini fics about my Dungeons and Dragons OCs, affectionately known as Team Paladin.Featuring Romance! Grey Guards! Discussion of Morality! A Tiefling Paladin!





	1. Contents and Dramatis Personae

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little under construction at the moment, sorry about that.

## Dramatis Personae:

 _Marco de Domine:_ Marco is the middle child of middling branch of the de Domine family, who ended up joining the Church of Heironeus partly out of family expectations but mostly because he wants to do good in the world. Dislikes large portions of the nobility, does what it takes to achieve good (within reason), and breaks the paladin code a bit too much. In a romantic relationship with Xeruzhar, mentors Temperance. 

_Temperance Justice Sailor:_ When Temperance was about 18, he realised two things. One: he actually wanted to be good, not to show the world that tieflings could be, but because he wanted to show the world he could be, and also because he wanted to be good. Two: there was no way he could do it where he was. He changed his name, city and religion, and became a paladin. He's currently towards the end of his training, and getting hands on mentoring with an experienced paladin. There is some concern that he chose a known grey gaurd as a mentor. 

_Xeruzhar:_ Xeruzhar is a goody two shoes and a complete aasimar stereotype. This is somehow despite a) being raised for good part of his childhood by an evil cult, and b) being traumatically rescued/"rescued" by a church of Pelor. In a romantic relationship with Marco, sort of co-mentoring Temperance. 

## Table of Contents:

  1. _Table of Contents and Dramatis Personae:_ This chapter, right here
  2. _A Rose by Any Other Name:_ How Temperance chose his name
  3. _Veteratorian: crafty, subtle:_ A prompt fic about Marco dispensing justice
  4. _Veteratorian: crafty, subtle:_ A prompt fic about Marco dispensing justice
  5. _Horses:_ Marco teaches Temperance how to ride a horse
  6. _Affianced:_ Marco and Xeruzhar discuss how to elope
  7. _A Pretty Moral Compass:_ Marco and Xeruzhar start adventuring together
  8. _'Where're you going?':_ Temperance's sister catches him sneaking out. 




	2. A Rose By Any Other Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How Temperance chose his name.

 How mislead you would be by the name ‘Temperance Justice Sailor’ depends on how much you know about tieflings. If you knew only a little, it doesn’t sound like a real tiefling name (it doesn’t sound _eeeeeviilll~~_ ) You might guess he was aasimar, or even human.

If you knew more about tieflings, like that naming themselves after virtues or other abstract nouns was a common thing among tieflings, his name fits into that pattern neatly. 

Either way, Temperance is generally a female name, and well, he isn’t.

His parents didn’t name him Temperance. They gave him a perfectly common first name to go with his perfectly common last name. His family were the only people who called him that first name. It was too common otherwise, about a quarter of boys in their town had that name. Those that disliked him and had to be formal about it called him ‘Sailor.’ Those that disliked him and didn’t have to be formal called him ‘Tiefling’ or ‘Devil.’ Those few that did like him called him ‘Preacher.’ His father was the town’s priest of Pelor, it suited. In his adolescence, it was a joke, considering how little like a good preacher’s son he acted.

When he came to adulthood, Temperance knew to things: he had to leave his hometown, and get a new name. He wanted to be good, desperately, partially to prove people wrong and partially because it was good to be good. But he’d developed a reputation, a role, in his hometown. He was the rebellious tiefling, and while he had that role there was no way of breaking out of it. The name change was partially symbolic, to represent a new him, but somewhat practical.

He didn’t want his family to find him easily. There was nothing _wrong_ with them, but he couldn’t be good if he was around them. His father had wanted him to be good, wanted to prove everyone wrong about tieflings… and as an adult, Temperance agreed, but not as a teenager. The struggle, the arguments, the _I’m not mad I’m just disappointed_ , had defined his adolescence. At the end of the day, he couldn’t stand the thought of _pleasing_ him.

So, new town, new name.

He called himself Justice at first. It was a virtue he believed in, that he wanted to represent. And on that level, it was a good enough name.

But it never fit him, always felt a little off. It was too bombastic, in your face, too much a noun that had been repurposed. It didn’t entirely feel like a name. He couldn’t quite articulate it, but it just wasn’t his name.

On his way to the capital, he travelled with an old hedge witch for a while. She was the somewhere between platonic ideal of a grandmother and midwife. Caring, practical, liked to help people through pain and give them biscuits. She also loved divination cards. Anyone who travelled with her ended up with a reading or three.

“Would you like a reading, young man?” She called him ‘young man’ more often than his own name. He couldn’t tell if it was just him who got it, or if it was just a quirk of her speech.

“Do they work?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Are they magical, divine? Do they really show the future?”

“No, they’re just ink on paper. Perfectly mundane. They just provide a framework, and a random one at that. But people love frameworks when they’re lost. Gives them something to guide themselves with, even if it doesn’t really mean anything. And you seem lost and like you’re having a crisis of identity.”

He paused. “How could you tell?”

“I’d love to say I read it in the cards, but you’re a young tiefling on the road with a funny name. It comes with the territory.”

Justice frowned.

“Do you want the reading or not?”

He said yes.

He didn’t remember the whole of the reading, something about current turmoil and confusion passing if he was patient. He remembered the last card very clearly.

An angel stood pouring water from cup to cup, one foot in water and one on land. The word ‘Temperance’ sat underneath, and something about the word picked at his brain. He pointed at the card. “What does that word mean?”

“It’s the virtue of moderation and restraint. Holding yourself back from what you want to do, what feel natural, to do what’s the most virtuous.”

Something must have shown on his face, and she smiled knowingly. “It’s a very pretty girls name, too.”

He didn’t change his name immediately, it took him awhile to piece together what drew him to the word. But when he moved on to the next travelling party, he introduced himself as Temperance.


	3. Veteratorian: crafty, subtle.

Leonardo de Domine thought he was a subtle. He was so clever, he could pretty much boast about what he’d done, what he was going to do, and no one would be any the wiser.

That was true, as amply demonstrated by everyone else at this dinner party. But it wasn’t because Uncle Leo was clever or subtle. People like Leo broke families, made them blind. “No, he could never have done that, he’s so nice,” “No, he couldn’t have ever have done that, one of our family would never do that,” “Yes, maybe he did do it, but we need him too badly,” “Sure, he did it, but we can’t go around airing dirty laundry,”  “He did that to me, never did me any harm,” “He never did that, I must be crazy,” “I’m the only one, it must not matter,”

Leo could jump up on the table and shout “I fuck children! I’ve fucked most of the children in this room!” and the conversation wouldn’t change from “Lovely weather we’ve been having, isn’t it?” Considering how drunk Leo was, Marco was surprised he hadn’t done it already.  

“Toni, how are your studies going?” Leo asked.

Antonia flinched at her name. Marco couldn’t tell if it was the tone, or the nickname, or just Leo talking, but it was definitely a flinch.

Leo smiled.                                                        

‘Likes to watch people flinch’ was low on the list of Leo’s crimes. Ridiculously low. _Spectacularly_ low _._ But it still made Marco want to jump across the table and smite him.

That would definitely change the conversation around the table, though. It was the tricky thing about being a paladin, especially in this family. You had to conform to people’s ideas of a paladin. Don’t right the evils you see, no, go right the evils everyone else was doing. Make polite conversation even as their aura of evil bubbles and writhes in front of you.

Say: “Yes, the weather is nice, but I hear the coast has got the most dreadful rain.”

Say: “The temple has been mostly quiet, generally is this time of year. My student is progressing very well though.”

Say: “No, of course no one at this table is evil. Why would they be?”

***

One of the advantages of being a grey guard is few knew the difference between a grey guard and a paladin. Within the church, people liked to think they were night and day. But outsiders just assumed you were a normal paladin. The idea you could be underhanded was completely foreign, unexpected.

And you can’t defend yourself against what you don’t expect.

Marco walked across the grounds in the middle of the night. He was family, what was odd about doing that? He had a sword at his hip, and knife as well. He was a paladin, that was what they were supposed to wear at their hips. He climbed the stairs towards Leo’s chambers. He was family, what wrong could he even be doing?

He opened the door, closed it behind him, and drew his sword.

Leo sat up, and looked blankly at Marco’s blade.

“I know what you’ve done.”

Leo blinked twice. “What have I done?”

“You’re not as subtle as you think, you know. Especially when someone who knows what to look for. Someone people tell things to that someone they wouldn’t tell anyone else.”

“Oh.” Leo paused, and then grinned. It could best be described as shit-eating.  “You can’t prove it. Not to the courts. You guys have to go through the courts.”

Marco stepped closer, holding the sword an inch away from his neck. “No, not really.” That was a lie. Depending on what happened in this room, and how the Seven Mounting Heavens were feeling tonight, it might be decided that he should have gone throught. It might be decided that he broke the Code. If that lie hadn’t already counted as a breach, of course.

Tomorrow morning, he was going to be sweet talking a cleric into preparing _atonement._

“I’m going to give you two options. You admit what you’ve done, in public. You make amends, _from a distance._ And you make sure you are never so much in the same building as a child again, or this option is revoked.”

“And the other option?”

Marco drew the knife, and held it to his neck also. It was awkward holding the sword and knife at once, but from how Leo’s eyes widened, it was effective. “Or, tonight, you’ll have a burglary gone wrong. _Really_ wrong. Such a shame the thieves were so jumpy, and that you were in exactly the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Leo looked scared, yes, but also confused. Like this didn’t jive with what he understood of Marco. Of what he understood of _paladins._ “You can’t do this. You can’t _._ You’re not allowed.”

“I think I see where you’re confusion comes from _: I’m not a paladin_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was for a prompt sent by diseonfire on tumblr.
> 
> Warning: there is off screen child sexual abuse in this chapter.


	4. Horses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marco teaches Temperance how to ride a horse.
> 
> Prompted by fuukonomiko on tumblr.

“You look terrified,” said Marco. 

“I wouldn’t go say far as ‘terrified’–” said Temperance.

“Uncomfortable, then.”

“Yeah.” Temperance eyed Marco’s gelding with the look of most beginner horse riders: _‘oh gods he’s so much bigger up close and i’m going to have to sit on him’_

“Not gonna lie, it’s super weird and off-putting the first few times, but it won’t stop being like that until you do it enough.”

Temperance shuffled back a few steps, looking like he was about to bolt. 

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal: you mount, and then you can immediately dismount. Sound good?” 

Temperance nodded. He wobbled on the mounting block, and his technique was painful to watch, but he got on without immediately falling off. 

He gripped tight onto the pommel. “So, how do I get off?”

Marco grinned. “I said you could dismount straight away, but I’m not telling you right now. In about five minutes, I will. But feel free to hop off anytime if you work it out.” 

Temperance glared at him.


	5. Affianced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Xeruzhar plan how to elope.
> 
> Prompted by diseonfire on tumblr.

Xeruzhar poked his head through the doorway.

Marco sat at the desk, silhouetted by the twilight through the window. He ripped a letter into thin little strips.

There was a… carefulness, a precision, a tension, that Marco didn’t normally have in his fingers.

“I’d ask if you were okay,” Xeru said as he stepped in, “but—“

“One of the major downsides of being a paladin, is that you cannot lie to get people to leave you alone.” Marco’s accent was more clipped than usual. He sounded like he’d had enunciation lessons. Which was _true_ , but he generally didn’t sound like a wound up Duke.

Xeru stood at Marco’s side.

“Have you ever had _that_ —“ Marco punctuated it with a faster rip, that left the strip with fat tail “—relative?”

“I’ve had a lot of relatives, but there’s a lot of different kinds of ‘that.’”

“They are… well meaning, generally older, and their greatest joy in life is playing matchmaker. Won’t be satisfied until the biggest church in town is rented and their littlest granddaughter is flower girl. Definitely won’t take ‘not interested’ as an answer, completely unaware of any potential… complications.”

“Like secret fiancés?”

“Like wonderful secret fiancés.” Marco leaned his head against Xeruzhar’s stomach. Xeru couldn’t tell if it was affectionate, or because he was the nearest vertical surface. Probably both.

“Do you want a solution?”

“Solutions are much nicer than stress and tiny bits of paper.” The fat tailed piece slipped off the desk.

“Your family can pretty much only have gossip-thing at a time, right?”

“Unless one of them is a bigamy scandal, but bigamy scandals are so passé.” Marco half way joking was a good sign. Leaning heavier against Xeru was also a good sign.

“We wait till there’s something that ties up the rumour mill, something they’ll want to chew the cud with for a while, and we elope. They’ll be too tied up to comment, and it’ll be done thing.”

“We should make sure to kidnap the granddaughter first.”

Xeru cocked his head.

“Apparently she’s just been _dying_ to be a flower girl. Of course, that might just be her grandmother projecting. We should kidnap her instead, I’m sure she’d love to be a flower girl.”

Xeru huffed out a laugh. “An eighty year old flower girl would be a sight. Flowers all wrapped around her cane—“

“I’ll let her know you said that. You know, come the actual event.”


	6. A Pretty Moral Compass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Xeruzhar start adventuring. 
> 
> Prompted by starcunning on tumblr, with this prompt: "I think you are beautiful and I would like to kiss you. I can think up some clever lines, if you’d prefer. But I wanted to say that, first. (None of those lines seemed to be about you or me.)"

Marco stared absently over Xeru’s left shoulder.

“Are you okay? You seem awful quiet,” Xeru said. They’d known each other a week, while they’d put that rot cult down with another group of passing adventurers, and Marco had not. Shut. up. The week. His uncle had always referred to what the nobles did around tax time (“Hey, taxes are great! Look at all the things they pay for! Yay taxes!”) as a charm offensive. Marco charmed the way he fought: fast, with panache and a little too much creativity. (I mean, you could hit people in the face with you shield, but it’s mostly for protecting you! …Marco still had a half healed scratch over his nose because of that one.)

Marco started, and brought his eyes back to Xeruzhar’s face. “Oh, yes. Just thinking. Maybe a little more slowly because of this.” He lifted his mug and took a swig.

Xeru put on his best ‘joking disapproving school teacher’ voice. “You know it’s not becoming of a paladin to lie.” A little joking was probably needed. These were the sort of conversations you had to be careful with, careful to not scare the other person out of talking.

Maybe he was jumping the fence a little here. He’d known Marco for only a week. But the chattiest person going quiet after the big fight… it was a concern. 

Marco cocked his head.

“I don’t know how they do it, but I don’t think you can get drunk on this. It’s just fizzy.” Xeru took another swig.

Marco looked down at his drink like it was a mechanism that wasn’t behaving itself, and glaring at it would either make it work or reveal the problem. “Must just be thinking slow because   
I thought I should be.”

“I don’t want to press–”

“You work for Pelor. It is your job.”

“I don’t want to press to far, but if it’s about the fight, I–” ‘get it’ seemed to familiar and not overly fancy. Xeru searched for the word. “– sympathise. The come down after a fight like can be hard. Sometimes way harder than you’re used to.”

Marco waved a free hand. “It’s not that. Well, only a little that.” He put down his drink. “I had a little speech prepared, and I was busy trying to make it work. It was a little too impersonal, made me sound like a merchant flogging sub par wares.

I know you’re attached to this town, but I was wondering if you’d ever been tempted by the life of an itinerant adventurer? Maybe even tempted now?”

Xeruzhar smiled. That was surprisingly merchant-y for something trying not to be. It was kind of charming. Actual charming, not ‘pretty please pay your taxes’ charming. “Are you inviting me to your party?”

“It’s not really a party, it’s just me and Toffee. But yes.”

“Why me?”

“If you’re not interested–”

Xeru waved both hands side to side. “No, no, no, I’m interested. I’m just wondering, we teamed up with an actually party of adventurers. You could join them if you were getting lonely with your knight errant thing. But you asked me, even though I’m less likely to say yes. So, why me?”

Marco looked somewhat stunned, and blinked rapidly. “…Do you want an articulate answer, because if you do you’ll have twenty minutes.”

Xeru leaned his elbows on the table, and his chin on his hands. “I’ll take true but wonky any day.”

“You have a very pretty moral compass.” Marco went wide eyed, realising what he’d said after he said it.

Xeru laughed. “Okay, that one’s new. At least it’s not a weird comment about the eyes.”

Marco’s cheeks had gone beetroot red. “I mean, you’re a better person than me– no, no, that’s too self deprecating.” Marco took a deep breath. He didn’t seem much more settled after it. “If I joined that party; which I don’t really want to anyway, they don’t seem like particularly good company long term; I’d be the only paladin. I’d be the defacto most moral person there. I find it nice to not be that. I like not having to be the most good person, to have someone better to look to for guidance.”

“We’re both paladins. We’re both equally good.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve got me beat.”

“Well, I find it nice to have a moral equal for guidance. And I’d been thinking of maybe adventuring. There’s so many people that need help, and they can’t all come here–”

Marco nodded. “So, adventure?”

“Where were you thinking? You’re the expert.”

“I’ve been hearing some worrying news from around Ray Bay–”  


	7. Where're you going?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Temperance's sister catches him sneaking out. 
> 
> Prompted by starcunning on tumblr, for this prompt: "At my worst, I worry you’ll realize you deserve better. At my best, I worry you won’t. (I’ve never been better.) "

The trick to startling your brother was patience, dedication, and being sneakier than he was.

He padded down the hall, sneaking towards the door, a large bag swinging from his shoulder.

“Hey,” Manna whispered (waking their parents would just get them all into trouble. Plus, you didn’t have to be loud to be startling.) “Where’re you going?”

He jumped, surprisingly quietly, and spun around to face her. “What are you doing up?” He whispered back.

“You’ve been sneaking out most nights–and kudos to you, I thought the parentals would be paying more attention, but you’ve been sneaking around real good– and now you’re walking out with a bag. So, where’re you going?” She grinned, teeth shiny in the dark. “Doing anything fun?”

“Petty crime is not fun. And no.”

“Oh come on, Mr ‘Petty Crime is not fun’. I know you.”

“All it ever got me was broken noses, and unhappy parents.”

“And fun.”

“…Maybe. At the time.”

“Come on, where are you going? Can I come.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Manna glanced at the bag.

“I’m not going anywhere that fun. You wouldn’t want to come. Really. I’m just casing some joints.”

Manna made a go on gesture with her hands.

He sighed. “I’m going to the Church of Heironeous. Not much point trying anything though. The priest their is a complete insomniac.”

“That just makes it a challenge.”

He stepped closer to the door. “Please go to bed. I know it’s kinda rich coming from me, but I’m your big bro. I can be all ‘do as I say, not as I do.’ Like generally.”

Manna raised an eyebrow.

“There’s only room for one rebel in this family.” He smiled. It rang a little false, but it was dark enough it could just be a trick of the lack-of-light.

“And once you grow up and leave, I’m totally going to pick up that baton.”

“Just… don’t do anything too dangerous. I know, I know, it’s the ‘not as I do thing.’” He walked towards the door. When he was halfway out, he leaned back in. “Hey, when I’m back, I’m gonna tell you all about the fun shit I got up to. Make up for not letting you come, yeah?”

Manna pursed her lips and thought about it. “Deal.”


End file.
